Je Suis Cette Fille
by darkswanqueenredybeautysw
Summary: "Noèmie." At the sound of the name rolling off of her mother's tongue, the newborn baby girl let out a symphony of pleased gurgles as cool, icy blue eyes stared down into her own matching ones. "Elle est belle, mon chèri." Fleur praised her wife, leaning down to press her soft lips against Hermione's forehead. /Fleurmione child attends Hogwarts with her two Professor mothers.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for original characters. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.**

"Noèmie."

At the sound of the name rolling off of her mother's tongue, the newborn baby girl let out a symphony of pleased gurgles as cool, icy blue eyes stared down into her own matching ones. " _Elle est belle, mon ch_ _èri_." Fleur praised her wife, leaning down to press her soft lips against Hermione's forehead.

After a few moments of cooing over their child, Noèmie, as well as her exhausted mother, began to drift off to sleep. Fleur gathered the newborn into her arms, careful not to disturb her, and settled herself into the chair beside Hermione's bed. " _Mon bèbè_ , you are so little." She observed out loud, one of her slender fingers gently running down Noèmie's soft cheek.

The child stirred in her sleep, and Fleur couldn't help to notice the familiar way the baby's brow creased in deep thought as Hermione's did when she slept; as if she was always thinking, even in her sleep. The blonde tenderly pressed her lips to Noèmie's soft head, breathing in her fresh scent. Almost immediately, Fleur began to feel the bond develop between mother and daughter. Her blood surged through her body at an alarming rate; she was aware of every muscle and nerve working to focus her attention on the gift in her arms. For a moment, she was brought back to the moment of her own bonding with her mother, as well as Gabrielle's. It was a Veela tradition, and Noèmie was one eighth Veela.

It took only a few more minutes for the bonding to complete. " _Rien ne vous blessera jamais_." Fleur breathed, holding Noèmie close to her as she too began to fall under the temptation of sleep.

 **Eleven Years Later**

"Do you really think she's ready for the express? I mean, one more year using the Floo with us couldn't hurt, could it?" Hermione Jean Granger-Delacour worriedly asked her wife while holding onto her daughter Noèmie's hand. The family was making their way through King's Cross Station, ready (or trying to be ready, in Hermione's case) to send their daughter off to her first year at Hogwarts.

Not that she hadn't been there before. Noèmie spent every school year since she was one inside the castle, as both of her mothers were professors. But the idea of sending her only child on the Hogwarts Express alone without anybody to watch her had the Transfiguration Professor on edge. Her French Veela wife, on the other hand, wasn't quite as sentimental.

"She will be fine, Hermione." Fleur interjected, taking her wife's hand in her own to reassure her. Meanwhile, the subject of their discussion was to busy taking in her surroundings to pay attention to her mothers. Never had she been on the other end of Hogwarts life; taking the Express and seeing how everything on the other end worked. A flash of red hair caught the girls eye, and she managed to free herself from her mothers grasp to pursue it.

"Noèmie!" Hermione called after her daughter, about to follow her when she caught sight of her child's goal. Ron and Lavender's son, Billius, met Noèmie half way, the first year wrapping his growing arms around his best friend. "Hello, Billius." Hermione greeted, causing the boys cheeks to flare up at the use of his full name. He much rathered being called Billy.

"Morning, Mrs. Granger-Delacour." The young boy mumbled. Just as Hermione was about to ask of his whereabouts, Ron appeared through the crowd, Lavender in tow. The couples exchanged greetings and prepared to load their children onto the Hogwarts Express.

Fleur and Hermione knelt down so that they were eye level with their daughter, each one taking one of her hands. " _Félicitations pour votre premier jour, l'amour. Nous sommes si fiers de toi_." Fleur beamed proudly, kissing the back of her daughter's hand. "Always remember to stay proud and be the best you can be." She added with a smile, squeezing her daughters hand.

" _Merci, maman_." Noèmie grinned, nodding in understanding.

"You know where to find us if you need us, okay sweetheart?" This time Hermione spoke, still worried about sending her daughter onto the Hogwarts Express for the first time. "Our door is always open."

With that, and a few parting kisses to the cheek, Noèmie left her two mothers standing at the station as she boarded the train. "Where's Harry?" Ron asked, handing his sons trolley off to those loading the luggage onto the train.

"He had to attend earlier and Ginny's in Bulgaria, as you know. He sent Albus here on his own." Hermione answered, watching from a distance as Harry's middle son boarded the train, his older brother on his heel. "Well not alone. But I doubt James is going to want to help his brother getting settled." The brunette thought aloud.

"And he he seems _fine_ , mon chèri." Fleur emphasized, nudging Hermione to reassure her. When the Transfiguration Professor didn't ease up, a thin arm snaked its way around her waist, pulling her close against Fleur's body. "And Noèmie will be too." FLeur added, sealing the deal with a kiss to the former Gryffindors temple.

"You'll keep an eye on Billy, won't you?" Lavender asked frantically, watching as the train began to depart the station. The group of parents turned and waved good-bye to their children. At the question, the two women gave Lavender a sympathetic look. The was still very visible on Lavender's neck with Greyback had bitten her all those years ago during the Battle of Hogwarts, and the woman, with many regrets, had passed the adopted trait onto her only son. Their nine year old daughter, Gwen, had fortunately not acquired it.

"Of course Lav, don't worry. We'll sort out the full moons with McGonagall, and make sure everything works out." Hermione assured the frizzy haired woman. Ron gave his best friend a grateful look, before the two women part ways with Ron and Lavender.

" _Bonjour_ , Albus." Noèmie greeted the dark haired boy who sat alone in the compartment. Albus blushed as Noèmie's small thrall hugged him, causing blood to rush to his cheeks. Noèmie took little notice of this and took it as her invitation inside, which she gladly accepted. Billius soon followed after, closing the compartment door behind him.

"Are you excited about finally going to Hogwarts as a student?" Billius asked Noèmie, taking his seat beside Albus. Noèmie merely shrugged, figuring it wouldn't be much different with her mothers running around the school like they always did when she _wasn't_ a student. "Right then. How were your summers?" Billius continued on, not bothered by the ongoing silence in the compartment.

"Mum and Dad took us out to Romania. Bloody brilliant, I'll tell you that. I even got to ride a training dragon." Albus lightened up, a smile gracing his face. "Mum says Uncle Charlie made a living out in Romania, training those beasts." He spoke to his cousin. His eyes were alight with interest at the topic, but Billius seemed less excited.

"That's what Dad told me. I'd wished I'd gotten to meet the bloke." The redhead sighed,the only thing he remembered about his Uncle being attending his funeral when was only a year or so old. "I didn't go anywhere. Dad was so busy at work, and Mum with her own stuff at the Ministry." He added, kicking his feet up to the seat opposite of him. "How about you then, Noèmie?"

Noèmie drew her attention away from the window and changing scenery to face Billius. "We stayed with _Maman's_ family in France." She answered, thinking back to her summer and how great it was. She remembered following her Aunt Gabrielle and her older friends around the house, trying to spend time with the older kids.

"Sounds alright. I've never been to fond of the French. Too smelly." Billius admitted, curling his nose up at the thought. The honey haired young witch glared at the boy, insulted.

"At least we don't wait three days to shower. You're calling _us_ smelly?" Noèmie returned with a snap, a frown etched into her expression. Billius blushed, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. _Maman would be proud,_ Noèmie thought to herself with a proud smile.

* * *

"Come on, wake up you oaf!" Noèmie urged, kicking Billius in the leg. Startled awake, the boy took in his surroundings only to realize that they had arrived at Hogwarts. The train had stopped and the students began to unload themselves. The three first years followed the others to the boats.

As the boats made their way towards the castle, Noèmie noticed the looks of awe on Albus and Billius's faces at the sight. It was strange to see others so smitten with the castle, when she had grown up in it. She knew it like the back of her hand, so she was sure Albus and Billius were going to use that to their advantage.

In another few moments, the first years were crowded at the stairs leading into the Great Hall. It was hard to hear over the chattering of eleven year olds, so the trio kept quiet as they waited for the noise to die down. After a few minutes the children began to simmer down their conversations and the large doors parted slightly to reveal the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Harry Potter. The teacher immediately made eye contact with his son, who gave his father a nervous smile in return.

As Harry made the usual first year speech and explained the sorting process, Noèmie's mind began to wonder about which house she would be sorted into. A part of her wanted to follow in her mothers footsteps and be sorted into Gryffindor, another wanted her to follow her own path. "The Sorting Ceremony will start momentarily. Please follow me." Harry announced. In another moment, the doors of the Great Hall swung open, and the first years were led inside.

Immediately, the Hall erupted in cheering as the first years crowded at the front of the Great Hall. "I will call your name by alphabetical order. Please wait until called to approach the Sorting Hat." Harry instructed, a scroll appearing in his hands. At the Head Table, Hermione whispered in her wife's ear and both pairs of eyes were on Noèmie. Their daughter smiled at her mothers sheepishly. Fleur sent a wink Noèmie's way, and the young girl caught her other mother giving her a thumbs up.

Noèmie began to grow anxious as Harry went down the list. Houses cheered left and right as their house names were announced, each cheering growing more excited than the last. At last, her name was called. "Noèmie Apolline Lucy Granger-Delacour." She groaned internally as her full name was announced, but stepped up to the stool, feeling both of her mothers eyes on her.

"Let's see then…" The Sorting Hat began as it was placed on top of Noèmie's head. "Ah, yes. Smart. Very smart. A little bit of mischief in your mind, no doubt. But what's this? A Granger? Your path seems very clear, don't you think?" Noèmie felt a bit of relief at that-he was going to sort her into Gryffindor. "Now I never said that." The Hat spoke, as if reading her mind. "Gryffindors are strong, brave. A might good fit for you, I would agree. But wait...my my, Ms. Granger-Delacour. Is that a bit of Veela I sense?" The Hat taunted, followed by an amused chuckle. Noèmie furrowed her brow in confusion. Fleur had always taught her daughter that her heritage was nothing to be ashamed of; to always be proud of her Veela blood. So why was the Sorting Hat laughing at it? "Easy there, child. It was merely an observation. I have an inkling that you may succeed in Slytherin, as well. But you are a lover, not a fighter. No, no. I won't make the same mistake twice. You Grangers do not come around often. Better be...Ravenclaw!"

Applause erupted from the Ravenclaw table as they stood, waiting to welcome Noèmie to their house. Beaming with pride, Noèmie made her way over to greet her new housemates. Behind her, Hermione and Fleur stood as they clapped as well, causing Noèmie to blush out of embarrassment caused by her parents.

By the end of the ceremony, Albus and Billius were both sorted into Gryffindor, leaving Noèmie on her own at the Ravenclaw table. A bit upset by this news, Noèmie tried her best to stay positive and make new friends. This is where she met Winona Finnigan, an energetic second year who had a tendency to rant. At least she was keeping Noèmie's mind off of her friends.

Across the hall, Fleur and Hermione spoke to one another as they watched their daughter become accustomed to her new house. "I told you she would not be in Gryffindor, mon amour." The blonde teased, sipping from her goblet of wine. Her wife rolled her eyes, chewing her piece of broccoli before speaking.

"Fine, you were right." Hermione sighed in defeat. With a wicked, smirk, Fleur's hand dove underneath the table and landed on her wifes though teasingly. Hermione's heart sped up as a familiar feeling tugged at her stomach when Fleur began to massage the inside of her thigh through her robes. "Not here, Fleur!" Hermione hissed, her own voice betraying her.

"Remember the deal, mon chèri." The Veela purred, not giving off any obvious signals about her actions under the table.

"Anywhere but here, I promise!" The brunette begged, not sure how much longer she could resist. "Your daughter is in this room!" She added for effect. That seemed to work like a charm; Fleur immediately retracted her hand from it's place and settled it in her own lap. Hermione caught her breath, trying desperately to regain her composure as she sat in an uncomfortably moist seat.

"I expect to collect my prize soon, _Mademoiselle Granger._ " Fleur smirked, aware of the state she had left her wife in. Hermione chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at the blonde in amusement.

"Oh don't worry, Professor. It is, after all, the first time in eleven years, that we don't have a roommate to wake up."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed! Keep them coming! Also, excuse all of my errors (in English and French; neither are my first language.)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for original characters. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.**

"So what did the Sorting Hat mean when it said you were Veela? What is that?" Winona asked Noèmie, as the two girls began to change for bed. Noèmie smiled at the question. Her mothers had warned her that not everybody would be thrilled to be in the presence of a Veela, females especially. So when somebody was curious, Noèmie was sure to be proud and bring a good reputation to the Veela bloodline, or at least what she knew of it.

"It's not very easy to explain. _Maman_ says the Veela go back centuries; we have been around for as long as she can remember." Noèmie began. "I am not a full Veela. Neither is _Maman_ , or _grand-mèrè_. I am one eighth, _Maman_ is one fourth, _grand-mère_ is one half, and her mother is a full Veela." The young girl explained, running a brush through her hair as she spoke. "They all married non-Veela, so the children, that's me and _Maman_ , only get some of the Veela trait."

"But what _is_ it? Do you have magical capabilities that the rest of us do not?" Winona pressed, not satisfied with the history lesson.

" _Maman_ says yes, but her and Mum both think I'm too young to understand it. All she has taught me is that I have a thrall as well as she does, but since I am very little, it is too." Noèmie shrugged, taking her mothers word when she said she was too young to understand it.

"I can feel it. I was wondering what it was when you first sat down at the table; I thought maybe your Mum's had put a protective charm on you, or something." The second year pointed out, climbing onto the four poster bed that was much too large for her alone. Noèmie couldn't help but ask what it felt like; she had always wondered but never experienced it for herself. "It feels like a warm hug." Was all Winona said on the subject, before taking out a book and engrossing herself in it.

Noèmie looked at the wall clock as it struck nine-thirty, and figured there was just enough time to catch her mothers before she had to be in bed. Grabbing a cloak to throw over her night clothes, Noèmie left the first year dormitories. She avoided the looks of the older students as she crossed the Common Room, they didn't seem too pleased with having a first year out after curfew.

Tumbling through the Ravenclaw entrance, Noèmie navigated her way around the castle from memory, until she reached the large bird statue that led to her parents quarters. "Yankee Candle." The girl announced quietly, and soon enough, the bird spread its wings, revealing a large door behind one of them. Of course they had to choose a password that young witches and wizards wouldn't think of; what better than a muggle scented flammable wad of wax?

Noèmie followed the stairs to the door, where she knocked lightly before stepping back and awaiting one of her mothers to answer it. After a moment and taking in the familiar scene, Hermione opened the door, wondering what somebody needed at a time like this. When she saw that it was Noèmie, however, the Transfiguration professor softened and stepped aside to let her daughter inside. " _Bonjour, mèrès._ " Noèmie greeted affectionately, wrapping her small arms around Hermione's waist.

Fleur stepped out of the bathroom in her bathrobe and a toothbrush between her teeth. Her blue eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, then back at her daughter. "You are out past curfew, _ma chèri_. Ten points from Ravenclaw." She scolded lightly. Noèmie'smouth fell open in shock at her mothers words as she crawled onto the couch beside Hermione.

"But _Maman_ , lights out are not until ten!" The small blonde protested, looking to her other mother in hopes of gaining her support. Hermione just shook her head, agreeing with her wife. "How can you do that to your own child? Your own house?" Noèmie whined at the head of Ravenclaw, her pout becoming almost cartoon like at the thought of costing her house ten whole points over something so trivial.

"You are being dramatic, Noèmie." Fleur shook her head in disapproval, "Lights out at ten, yes, but you are supposed to stay in your dormitories after nine thirty. You know better." Noèmie hung her head in shame. Yes, she knew better, but she didn't expect her own mother to punish her.

"Dramatic, I wonder who she got that from." Hermione chuckled, playing with her daughters hair as she allowed her wife to become the disciplinary for once. Fleur's eyes flashed with something -hurt, maybe?- and Hermione was quick to apologize. "One of your most redeeming qualities, might I add dear." Noticing that her daughter was still pouting, Hermione gathered Noèmie in her arms and set her on her lap. "You are a student now, Noèmie. You know we cannot treat you differently than the other students not, it wouldn't be fair." The older witch spoke softly, kissing the top of her daughters head.

"But you love me less, now that I am just like them." Noèmie admitted her fear, her voice quiet and upset. At this point, Fleur had finished brushing her teeth and joined her family on the couch.

"I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be the smart ones." Fleur interrupted, shaking her head. "Because, _ma bèbè_ , I've never heard something sillier come out of your mouth." She continued. "Just because we treat you the same way, does not in any way imply that we love you less." Fleur stressed, making sure Noèmie understood her. "Do you understand?"

Noèmie nodded slowly, feeling only slightly better about the situation. "Off to bed now, love." Hermione instructed, removing Noèmie from her lap. The young girl kiss both of her mothers goodnight, before leaving their chambers and returning to her own dormitory. "She's still upset." Hermione pointed out, turning to her wife with a small frown.

"She will be fine once she gets used to the idea of it." Fleur waved the problem off, knowing that her daughter was just as stubborn as her wife when it came to stuff like this.

"Do you think she would have liked it better at Beauxbatons?" Hermione asked, wondering if her daughter would have been happier in a new environment with her Veela cousins. Fleur disagreed, taking her wife's hand in her own.

"I don't think she could stand to be so far from Billius. Or us." The blonde replied, sighing. "Besides, she needs this atmosphere. She cannot possibly reach her full potential at an all girls school." Hermione knew that Fleur was referring to the inevitable moment when Noèmie would find her mate. Her mothers did not care for the gender of whomever their daughter would end up mating with, but it was nice for her to have both options at Hogwarts.

"You did." Hermione smiled at her wife. Fleur returned the smile with one of her own, leaning forward and chastely brushing her lips against Hermione's.

" _Merci, mon amour_. We will give Noèmie time. If sometime in the future she wishes to attend Beauxbatons, I will have a word with Madame Maxime." The Veela assured her wife. She moved to remove herself from the couch, but Hermione had other plans as she wrapped her arms around Fleur's waist, pulling her back down beside her against the soft cushions.

"Not so fast, professor." Hermione smirked, swinging her legs over Fleur so that she was now straddling her on the couch. THe blonde raised an eyebrow in amusement as Hermione played with the collar of Fleur's bathrobe. "That was very improper what you did at supper. I'm afraid I'm going to have to take some...disciplinary action." The brunette witch sighed heavily, watching as her wife's eyes darkened with desire at her words. Hermione grinded her hips into Fleur's once, causing the French woman to stifle a moan at the contact. "Oh well...five points from Ravenclaw for indecent behavior." Hermione retracted herself from Fleur with an evil smile, before sauntering over to their bedroom.

Fleur felt her frustration growing as she watched Hermione stalk out of the room, her eyes glued to the woman's swinging hips. The head of Ravenclaw shot up from her seat, following her wife and closing the door behind them.

* * *

Fleur felt something poking into her side as she clutched onto a pillow for comfort. However, when she realized it was just a pillow, and not her beautiful wife, her arm extended to the other side of the bed in search of Hermione. Another poke to her side, or rather a light shove, brought the blonde from her peaceful slumber. "We're late, Fleur!" Was all she heard as her wife ran around the bedroom in search of her socks. Fleur mumbled something into the sheets, not ready to leave the warm nest she had entangled herself in. "For class! We missed breakfast!" That was all it took for the French woman to shoot out of bed, allowing the sheet to fall from her naked body in the process. Hermione didn't even have time to admire the display, as the two were dressed within the next three minutes, grabbing their wands from their respective places, and running off to their classrooms.

* * *

First year Transfiguration was not a difficult class for Hermione to handle. The most trying moments were those where the professor attempted to stop the incessant chatter that went on. Other than that, the first years were excited, fresh, and ready to learn. It was a right lot better than what her poor wife dealt with every morning. Charms was a simple enough subject in its own, but Hermione did not envy instructing seventh years on an early morning. Or late; in this case.

Rather, she was a bit jealous. Not of Fleur, though. Due to the Veela blood that ran through her wife's veins, Hermione found herself much more affected by the stares of the seventh years than she usually was. Perhaps it was because she was not there to make sure they did not linger.

As the first years settled into their seats, they waited patiently for their professor to enter and give them further instruction. When this did not happen, they began to fidget.

"Where's your mum?" Billius asked the young Granger-Delacour, who in response merely shrugged. Noèmie had a few ideas. Her mother had once told her, when she was just about six years old, that in order for Fleur to stay healthy, they needed a large amount of 'alone time.' From that point on, anytime the couple would kiss or show certain signs of affection, Hermione called it ' _Maman's medicine_.' The great deal of privacy and respect that Noèmie provided her parents with resulted in several readings of anything the girl could get her small hands on. Now that she was older, Noèmie understood better, even more so when she began to study the Veela and their lifestyles. As her mother had said, the 'medicine' was indeed very important to Fleur's health.

As she mulled this over in her head, the classroom door swung open. Hermione entered, seeming a bit flustered as she made her way to the front of the classroom. "Good morning, class. Pardon my tardiness, I seem to be stuck in summer time." That earned a round of giggles from the eleven year olds, seeming to calm Hermione a bit in her scramble to appear prepared. "My name is Professor Granger, and I am the Transfiguration professor." Hermione introduced herself. "Please take your seats, and we'll begin shortly."

The students filed into their seats by name, their chatter dying down completely as class officially began.

* * *

"Sit down. Be quiet, please. _Bonjour_ , class. I am Professor Delacour, as most of you know. Welcome to seventh year Charms. I hope you all did your required summer reading, as you are in for a tough year without having done so." A series of groans filled the class as Fleur announced herself. "Yes, yes, the Professor is awake and ready to ruin your day; I will take your complaints after class, _merci_." At this point, Fleur quickly remembered where she was and who was in her presence. One look at her audience before her gave the woman the obvious signal to pull in her thrall and take control of it; something she had not needed to do all summer.

Some boys tentatively held their Charms books over their laps; while others tried desperately to swallow their desires. As soon as Fleur felt it within her grasp, she reeled her thrall in with carefully practiced ease. In a matter of minutes, she had the class under control. "Right, well...let's begin." She cleared her throat, scolding herself for not noticing sooner. Awkward chuckles filled the air, some students clearly uncomfortable, but Fleur waved them off before beginning.

* * *

"Hey, Noèmie!" A voice hissed from behind her, and the small girl turned to see Albus looking at her quite earnestly. Not wanting to catch her mothers attention and lose even _more_ points from her house, Noèmie shot the boy a silent, questioning look. Instead of speaking, Albus held up a finger, and scratched his neck while looking towards the front of the room. Confused, Noèmie shook her head before ignoring him and turning back to her assignment; one she'd reviewed months prior thanks to Hermione's adept planning skills.

Soon enough, though, Noèmie's attention was caught once again. Small fits of giggles sprang up in different parts of the classroom, causing Noèmie to look around for the source of her classmates' amusement. Following the trail of eyes around her, they settled on her own mother. The Transfiguration professor stood at the front of the classroom, leaning against her desk as she read over a complete assignment. Calmed by the sight at first, Noèmie took in her mothers beauty; admiring the way her hair fit into a neat bun without the use of magic. That's when she saw it.

A somewhat dark, nickle-sized, black and blue bruise rested just underneath the woman's earlobe. Had Hermione's hair been down, the mark would have barely been visible; but there it was in plain sight, as if Professor Granger had _no idea_. Well, now that Noèmie thought about it; she probably wasn't aware in the slightest. _Maman_ was a little more...in tune, with these types of situations, as she'd encountered them many times during her teenage years as a young, attractive, half-Veela. Noèmie learned that her non-Veela mother was a bit more refined in her youth, and hadn't quite had as many 'adventures' as her French wife (much to Hermione's jealousy.)

Noèmie heard some of the other first years mumbling about who could have marked their professor, obviously unaware of just who Hermione Granger- _Delacour_ was. Or, more importantly, who Noèmie was. And at that moment, she was embarrassed.

Never had she been ashamed of her family or who it was made up of. Like her mothers, Noèmie was sharp tongued and quick witted, and above all, defended those she loved. Though she was not ashamed now, she found herself unable to defend her mother. She was quite aware of the love bite, and it's purpose and meaning, but it's explanation was much beyond the words of an eleven year old. How was Noèmie supposed to explain it without explaining her entire family dynamic, and the ways of the Veela? How was she supposed to explain something she didn't yet _fully_ understand? Instead, the girl hung her head, pretending not to notice, and hoped no more attention was brought to her mother for the duration of the class.

 **A/N: Pretty frequent updates as of right now; let me know what you think of the story, and PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COMMENT/REVIEW/MESSAGE PROMPTS YOU'D LIKE TO SEE WRITTEN OUT. (I'm really growing very attached to Noèmie.)**


	3. Chapter 3

Noémie lingered after class, wanting to save her mother any more humiliation before the next class entered.

"Oh, well if it isn't little miss moody." Hermione teased, stacking the assignments on her desk as the students filed out eagerly. "Just because you're frustrated with your mum and me doesn't mean you can slack off in our classes, Noémie. I know you know the material; I expect you to be participating." The brunette scolded, her tone serious. Especially considering that Noémie had just been sorted into Ravenclaw; it wasn't a situation where the young girl should be letting her knowledge go to waste.

" _Oui, ma mère, je suis désolé._ " Noémie apologized, a bit unsure of how to word what she was going to say next. Was it better for her to let the topic go? Knowing her mother, Hermione would feel incredibly foolish. Then again, if she'd heard from any other kid in class, she'd feel betrayed by her own daughter. " _Mère,_ " the young girl began, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Hermione, noticing that her daughter was having some difficulty, furrowed her brows and waited for her daughter to go on. "Some of the other kids were talking in class, and…" Noémie trailed off, rocking on her heels.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Hermione wondered, kneeling down so that she was eye level with her daughter, worry in her gentle brown eyes. Hesitantly, Noémie leaned in and pressed her lips closely up against her mothers ear, revealing what had happened during class. When the eleven year old pulled away, Hermione's cheeks were rosy and the older witch felt mortified that a classroom full of eleven year olds were the first to see it.

"I'm sorry, Noémie." Hermione apologized, resting her head in her hands. One of them came up to undo the messy bun she'd thrown her hair into that morning, throwing her hair over one shoulder to cover the dark bruise. If anything, Hermione felt bad that Noémie was put in that position with all of her classmates. The young blonde shook her head, not thinking much of it. She valued her mothers image much more than her own. After clearing the air with her daughter, and answering any questions the girl might have had, Hermione brightened up and began to collect herself. "So how was your first night?" She asked her daughter, trying to adjust the topic.

For some reason, Noémie seemed to bond with Fleur much more on these types of subjects. She knew it was the Veela connection the two shared, and although a very small part of her was jealous of the bond, she knew she was Noémie's mother just as much as Fleur was. There were just other things they bonded over. "It was okay. Some of us stayed up and talked a bit, but most of us were tired." Noémie explained, gathering her bag from her desk and handing her assignment to her mother. "I really should go, I've got broomsticks lessons." The blonde grimaced; like Hermione, she wasn't a huge fan of flying. The Syllabus, on the other hand, didn't quite care. Hermione gave her daughter a supportive smile, before the young witch was out the door.

Noémie made it to her next class with just a minute to spare, joining the rest of the her peers on the Quidditch pitch, along with some first years from each house, respectively. "Blimey, Noémie, you're just like your mum." Billius Weasley teased the blonde as she came up beside him, almost late. Snickering at her glare, the pair was drawn from their conversation by a familiar voice.

"Good morning, students." Harry Potter made his way onto the field, students parting like the Red Sea to allow the professor by. Behind him, a swarm of empty brooms followed in a crowd. Once he stopped, so did the brooms, aligning themselves on the field in two rows across from one another. Noémie and Billius caught Harry's eye, and he gave both of them a reassuring smile. "Welcome to your first flying lesson. My name is Professor Potter; you may know my face because...I am also the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." He teased, earning some laughs, and some blank stares.

"Right. We're going to start by standing on the whatever side of the broom we are more dominant with. Stand to the left if you're using your right hand, to the right if you're using your left." Harry instructed, watching as the students chose a broom and took their positions. Noémie and Billius took spots next to one another. "For those of us who are bit wary about flying," Harry added, glancing at Noémie, "it's as simple as waving a wand, I promise. Alright, I want you to hover your dominant hand over the handle of the broom, and when you're ready to receive it, say _up_."

For some students it was second nature. One or two brooms shot up instantly, and after a second attempt, Noémie's broom found it's home in her hand. Smiling to herself, surprised, Noémie liked the way the wood felt in her grip. Billius got it shortly after, and Harry commended the both of them for their success. As he went on to explain the rest of the process, Harry didn't notice the Slytherin Quidditch team walking onto the pitch. "Oh, apologies, Professor." Cetus Malfoy caught the DADA professor's attention, as well as his little brothers, Scorpius. "I didn't know you had a class this morning. We were just going to prepare for our upcoming match next week." The sixteen year old explained apologetically.

"Go on and use half the pitch, we won't be using it much anyhow. Watch those bludgers." Harry instructed to the team, motioning to the other side of the field. Cetus nodded, leading the team towards the other half of the pitch, fussing up his little brothers hair as he passed him. "Oi, Cetus!" The blonde turned back to Harry, all ears. "Tell your dad to answer my owl. I'd kind of like an answer as quickly as possible."

"He'll be at the match next week, tell him yourself." Cetus jested back, a bright smile on his face. Harry chuckled, turning back to his students.

"Right then, who's ready to give it a go?" Murmurs erupted from the first years, friends volunteering each other until somebody was brave enough to step up. Scorpius, feeling the pressure from his brothers watchful eye and his title of Quidditch captain, felt it only made sense for him to raise his hand and mount his broom. In that moment, Noémie felt grateful for not having an older sibling and having to live in their shadow. The young Slytherin was graceful and concentrated in his task, and the first years below cheered and bellowed for their classmate as he dismounted the broom. Harry asked for another volunteer, and this time, Noémie felt confident in ability to fly. It was just like flicking a wand, Harry had send. "Good on you, Noémie." The professor smiled warmly.

Taking a deep breath, Noémie mounted her broom and slowly lifted herself off of the ground. Shutting her eyes tightly, she felt the nervous feeling in her stomach, before her brain told her to keep going. Exhaling, Noémie opened her eyes eventually and saw that she was higher up than she expected. The height, however didn't bother her all that much. Gripping onto the end of the broom, the young blonde slowly began to accelerate. A pleased giggle escaped her throat as the air began to whip through her hair, she felt free and as if nothing could hold her back. Something zipped past her ear, and Noémie turned her head quickly to catch a glance of a round object speeding past her. "Hey, look out!" A distant voice shouted, and Noémie saw a short, bat like object flying towards her.

Her first instinct was to reach out and catch it, and she did just that. Gripping the bat tightly, Noémie was unsure of what to do with the object before another round object was in her eyesight, flying straight towards her. She didn't know much about Quidditch, but she knew if this thing hit her, it would hurt. Reacting just quickly enough, Noémie swung the bat in her hand and sent the bludger flying in the opposite direction. A surge of pride swelled through her, but was short lived when she failed to focus on where she was flying. Before she knew it, Noémie's broom collided end first into a wooden beam, sending the eleven year old tumbling off of the broom and onto the ground below.

* * *

"I don't think it's a good idea, Fleur." Hermione sighed, though she knew in the end she'd end up giving in anyway, if it was what Noémie wanted. The couple stood on either side of a bed in the infirmary, their daughter sleeping soundly under the sheets, one of her arms wrapped in a sling. Fleur's delicate, long fingers ran over Noémie's forehead lovingly, tracing her perfect light skin.

"She may want to try it. We have to give her the option, at least." The blonde Veela countered with a small shake of her head, her hand moving from her daughter to grasp Hermione's across from her. Hermione nodded in agreement, knowing Fleur was right. She couldn't let her fear of Noémie getting hurt get in the way of something she might enjoy. The subject of their conversation began to stir in her bed, and the two women hushed the topic for a moment to awaken their daughter. " _Bonjour Chérie._ " Fleur smiled widely, watching in admiration as Noémie slowly began to awake.

"How are we looking here?" Harry's voice rang through the Infirmary, soon coming up behind Hermione and Fleur. Noticing Noémie was awake, the man breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry, 'Mione, Fleur." He apologized, turning to face his best friend. Hermione waved it off, as long as there was no permanent damage, she had no reason to worry. "Have you given any thought to my question, then?" Harry asked a moment later, looking at Noémie apologetically.

" _Bonjour, les mères._ " Noémie groaned lightly, feeling a numbness throughout her body. When Harry asked her how she was feeling, Noémie managed a half grin, giving a thumbs up with her good hand.

"Noémie, sweetheart. Uncle Harry has a question for you." Hermione lowered herself down so that she could place a kiss on her daughters forehead, smoothing her hair back. The Transfiguration professor was still worried about the idea that Harry was going to propose to her daughter, but didn't let that show.

"Noémie, how would you like to join the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as a beater?" Harry asked the young girl with an inviting smile. "Granted, it doesn't seem so fun now, I'm sure, but...it's quite a game." He promised Noémie, who took a moment to think. "You don't have to give me an answer now, kiddo. Take your time thinking, alright? Focus on getting better." He added, before bidding his goodbyes to Hermione and Fleur, and leaving the Infirmary.

"You should get some more sleep, _Chérie._ " Fleur cooed, bending down to kiss Noémie's cheek. The young girls eyes were again falling from exhaustion, as well as the effects of her medication. "Your mother and I will come back after lunch to see you, _oui?_ " She added softly, and in a matter of seconds, Noémie was once again asleep. Hermione and Fleur left the Infirmary shortly after, both heading to their quarters as neither of them had a class at this time. "She will be fine, Hermione." The blonde reassured her wife, wrapping an arm around her waist in the empty corridor.

Hermione sighed in defeat, supposing she had no other choice than to accept the fact that Noémie most likely wanted to join the Quidditch team. Leaning into her wife's embrace, Hermione provided a small smile as a sign of assurance that she was okay. Once the couple returned to their corners, Hermione threw an amused grin in Fleur's direction. "You got me into a little bit of trouble today, miss." She taunted lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, miss?" Fleur jested, smirking. "And how did I manage to do that when I haven't seen you since this morning?" She wondered curiously, taking a seat on their sofa and curling her legs underneath her. Grasping all of her hair in one hand, Hermione moved her locks from one side of her head to the other, revealing the now less dark love bite underneath her ear. Fleur's mouth fell open in a small 'o,' surprised. "Was that me?" She asked, as if the answer would've been anybody different.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the question, scoffing. "No, it was Harry. Of course it was you." She shook her head, throwing herself down beside her wife. "And all of the first years noticed and I'm sure Noémie was mortified to have been associated with me…" She grumbled, causing Fleur to lift her wife's face gently. Looking into the light, beautiful eyes made Hermione's day one hundred times better. She found everything she'd ever been looking for in them. Fleur leaned in and lightly pressed her lips against Hermione's, reassuring her that everything was okay.

"Noémie will live, I promise." Fleur giggled, bumping her nose against Hermione's playfully. "We will just be more careful next time. I'm sorry I embarrassed you in front of your students. I suppose I got a little excited." The French woman shrugged sheepishly. Hermione's eyelids were hooding, her senses were clouded with her wife being in such close proximity of her.

"I like when you're excited." Hermione breathed, her hand running up and down the blonde's thigh sweetly.

" _Oui_?" The Veela purred, leaning back against the sofa's arm as her wife pressed up against her.

" _Oui_."


	4. Chapter 4

The chatter of the Great Hall was almost deafening on the morning of the first match. Students excitedly quipped to one another about who they thought the winner would turn out to be: Ravenclaw or Slytherin? Bets were being placed and some boys were even throwing in their _entire_ supply of sweets, which, in Noémie's opinion, was quite a risk. The young blonde made her way through the Great Hall with a fast beating heart, anxious for the upcoming event and what it might entail. Around her, classmates and peers alike exchanged excitement for the match and encouraged their newly found beater. Quite a feat for a first year, it could be said. "Noémie!" The young witch was pulled from her thoughts by Albus, who'd been trying to get his friends attention for the last few moments. Noémie hadn't even realized she'd sat down in the process of her thinking, and she supposed she acquired that trait from her muggle born mother.

"Huh? Sorry, Albus. What did you say?" She asked quietly, clearing her throat. The young boy looked at her curiously, shoveling another forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Where's Billius?" She inquired of the other Gryffindor, not seeing him at the designated table. "I should go back to my table soon…" She added under her breath, feeling a little anxious.

"He's gone to finish his homework. Are you sure you're alright?" Albus asked, knowing that something was different about his friend. Noémie nodded, excusing herself from the Gryffindor table and placing herself back at the Ravenclaw table, taking a seat next to Winona.

"Are you nervous about the match today?" The other girl asked her as she sat down, biting into a piece of toast. Noémie cast her eyes up to the front of the Hall, glad to see that her mothers were getting better at getting themselves up in the morning. She knew they'd be at the match later, and that only made her nerves worse. Noémie wanted nothing more than to make her mothers proud, so she hoped she didn't make a fool of herself during the game. "Noémie?" Winona asked again, when the blonde didn't reply.

"Oh, uh...no. Sort of. A little bit, yeah." She admitted with a defeated sigh, her stomach turning. "I don't want to fall off and look foolish." The little girl added, her voice quiet.

"It's been a week since that happened, Noémie. Nobody's even thinking of it anymore." Her friend tried to reassure her, sympathizing. "They wouldn't have put you on the team if they didn't think you were good enough, right?" Noémie nodded in agreement, though still parts of her doubted her ability to perform well during the match. After she had finished her breakfast and engaged in some small talk with Winona, and seen that her mothers had left the Great Hall, Noémie made her way towards their quarters, hoping to alleviate some of her concerns.

" _Maman_ , can I have plaits, _s'il vous plaît_?" The young witch asked, poking her head inside her mothers chambers. Surprised, but delighted all the same, to see her daughter, Fleur invited the young Veela inside with a kiss to her forehead. Fleur paused for a moment - she could feel that something was wrong with her daughter, who sat herself down on one of the sofas, playing with the ends of her silky blonde hair nervously.

"Is everything okay, _chéri_?" Fleur asked tentatively, shutting the door and progressing over to the couch to sit beside her daughter. Noémie sighed, her round innocent eyes staring up at her mother in adoration. Noémie saw her mothers like nobody else in the world ever would - they were, in her opinion and without a question, the two most beautiful women in the world. The young girl felt blessed to have acquired Fleur's hair and eyes, and Hermione's radiant smile. She also hoped that she would age just as gracefully, though she would hardly consider them old.

" _Je suis nerveux pour le jeu, peut-être que maman avait raison._ " Noémie admitted sadly, and suddenly, without being able to stop it, she was crying. Tears slid down her perfect porcelain cheeks, and Fleur felt her heart drop into her stomach at the sight. She resembled Hermione very much, and Fleur naturally reached out to wipe away the tears gently. Motioning for the young Veela to turn around, Fleur's long fingers began to comb through her daughters soft hair, brushing it through and parting it to her liking for the braid.

"Shh, don't cry, _jolie fille_." The mother purred, trying to calm the girl down. "Remember what I have always told you. Life is not about winning. It is about making mistakes, learning from them, and trying again. If at first you do not succeed, you go again. You have nothing to be nervous about. You are a great beater, Noémie." Fleur assured Noémie, her fingers beginning to work on the French braid swiftly and naturally. "Your mother and I are going to be there, cheering you on."

"And it's Friday, so we'll be going to Hogsmeade and make a day of it after the match." A voice sounded from the door frame, and both heads turned slightly to see Hermione leaning against the frame with a wide smile on her face at the interaction going on between mother and child at the moment. "How'd you like to join us, sweetheart?" Hermione asked Noémie, making her way over to the pair and sitting on the opposite side of her daughter. She wiped away the stray tears, and Noémie sniffles began to cease at the idea. Hermione had become accustomed to the idea of her eleven year old being chased by a menacing ball over the past week and was looking forward to Noémie playing; seeing her so reluctant and scared broke her heart.

"...Okay." Noémie finally agreed with a small nod, waiting patiently for her mother to be done with her braid. The idea of going out with her mothers sent a jolt of excitement through her, and she absolutely _adored_ Hogsmeade. Suddenly finding a sense of confidence, Noémie sprouted a smile and jumped off of the sofa once the braid was complete. " _Merci maman_." The young blonde quipped, pecking Fleur's cheek sweetly in return. "I have to go and practice before the match." Taking a deep breath, Noémie nodded and smiled at her moms, before leaving their chambers.

"I told her so." Hermione shook her head knowingly, plopping herself down next to Fleur. The blonde rolled her eyes and scoffed, playing with one of the brunettes hands absently. "How do you think she'll do?" Hermione asked nervously, chewing on her bottom cheek.

"She's been practicing nonstop since her arm healed. I think she will be fine." Fleur shrugged, sighing. "And I'm _quite_ sure she's much more excited to play now she's been promised Hogsmeade." The blonde lilted, a little dismayed at the idea of Noémie joining them. Not because she didn't like spending time with her daughter, but because she valued time alone with Hermione as well. She was hoping for a night where her and Hermione could go and get dinner and not have to worry about how Noémie was doing or asking another professor to watch her because now they always were. Hermione saw the slight disappointment in her wife's face and sighed, lacing their fingers together.

"I know, I'm sorry baby." She apologized, bringing Fleur's fingers up to her lips and kissing them. "I just felt bad, she really did seem upset. How about tomorrow night, just us?" She offered sincerely, scooting in closer so that she could rest her head against Fleur's chest. The Veela instinctively wrapped a thin arm around Hermione's back, holding her steady against her. "I'll even wear one of those long jackets with nothing but lingerie underneath when we get back. I know you like that." Hermione grumbled, and she could feel Fleur's beautiful laugh vibrate against her head.

"Sounds like a plan, _mon amour_." The French woman giggled, but it soon died down when Hermione began to lift herself from the couch. "Wait, where are you going?" Fleur pouted, reaching out to grab the brunette's wrist gently. Hermione sighed, a small smile on her face at how cute her wife was being.

"I have a class; the short one, remember?" Hermione answered expectantly, only to be met with Fleur's blank stare. "It's only forty-five minutes, you'll be fine on your own, dear." Hermione shook her head, the smile expanding as she bent down to kiss Fleur sweetly. Suddenly, the blondes arms were wrapped around her, pulling her back onto the couch unexpectedly. "Fleur!" Hermione gasped, surprised.

" _Non_. Now you can't leave me." The Veela smiled victoriously, her body laid out against Hermione's, weighing her down. She was pinning the brunette down with her arms, her nose lightly rubbing up against her wifes.

"You're _impossible_!" But Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her lovers behavior, finding Fleur impossibly adorable. And the French accent only helped. "But you're so lucky you're cute." She grinned, shaking her head as she leaned in and lightly grazed her lips against Fleur's. "And have a very sexy accent." She added with a chuckle. Pleased, Fleur kissed Hermione again, this time deeper. When she pulled away for a breath, Hermione pressed her forehead against hers and breathed, "I love you." Fleur responded with one last kiss, ending it as she sat up and brought Hermione with her. "I have to go…" Hermione mumbled against her wife's lips, sighing with pleasure as the blonde lightly tugged on her hair.

Pulling away, Hermione smiled sweetly at Fleur, stroking her cheek lovingly. "Forty-five minutes?" Fleur asked,meaning she didn't want Hermione giving an extra long lecture like she usually did. Hermione nodded in promise, and Fleur couldn't help but give her one last kiss in hopes of reassuring her to stay. It was, for the most part, her Veela nature. Fleur's sex drive was a little above average, which wasn't a bad thing in Hermione's opinion. But once they got started, it was difficult for her to stop. Hermione again responded to the kiss, a little hesitant this time, but she felt herself melting all the same.

"...Fleur…" She shook her head a moment later, pulling away. "I _promise_ , baby." She assured her wife, standing up from the couch and grabbing her wand, before apparating out of the room, knowing she was already too late to walk across the castle.

Noémie could hear the cheers of the students through the curtains, taking a deep breath. She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder pat her in reassurance, and sixth year Iago Lovegood gave her an encouraging smile. He was her co-beater, and probably weighed a good hundred pounds more than her. Sighing, Noémie mounted her broom and readied herself. Once the curtain opened, team Ravenclaw flew out onto the pitch and met team Slytherin. Noémie was easily the youngest on the field.

Next thing the young girl knew, Harry had blown the whistle, and the game had begun. She veered down and began to circle the pitch as the game happened above her, keeping an eye out for the bludgers. One caught her eye, and it aimed to hit Iago from the side as he knocked out the other. Speeding upwards and towards him, Noémie swatted and struck the bludger away from him, earning a cheer from the crowd. The pair high fived, and Noémie felt like she was on top of the world.

They lost the game, but somehow Noémie managed to get through the whole thing without getting hurt, and saving her teammates from some pretty extreme injuries. " _Ma petite fille, je suis si fier de toi_!" Fleur held her arms open wide for Noémie, who ran into her mother with glee and pride. "You did so well, my love!" The blonde mother praised, kissing the top of her daughters head. A moment later, Hermione entered the scene and gave her daughter a long, tight hug.

"You were incredible, sweetheart." Hermione assured Noémie, smiling at her proudly.


End file.
